Return to Me

by Rosemary Rogers

  Taye smiled prettily, still holding on to Gallier’s arm.

  Captain Grey eyed her. “Just come from France, you say?”

  “Oui. Yes,” Taye corrected herself.

  The three looked up to see Cabot leading Efia across the street. “Of course that’s her!” Taye heard her say.

  Taye fought the emotions that bubbled up inside her. She had to play the part if she was to have any chance at not being convicted of murder. Not hanging from her neck until she was dead.

  “Right there—Taye Campbell,” Efia repeated, pointing a finger. “Don’t ya see her? I told ya she was walkin’ down the street, proud as a peacock in that hat!”

  Taye shifted her gaze to Gallier. His dark eyes met hers and she felt a strange sense of calm. She could do this. She was, after all, a Campbell, wasn’t she?

  “Je ne comprends…I do not understand,” Taye said in her best broken English.

  “Are you sure this is Taye Campbell?” Captain Grey asked Efia.

  “’Course I’m sure!” Efia spat. “Look at her. All dressed up like a white girl, but we know what color her skin really is, don’t we? She’s black like Mississippi mud, like the rest of us poor niggers.”

  Taye was taken aback by the hatred she heard in Efia’s voice, hatred she didn’t understand. Where had this loathing come from? And why? She and Cameron had been nothing but good to Efia and her sister Dorcas. She tightened her grip on her “uncle’s” arm.

  Captain Grey looked to Taye. “And you say you are not Taye Campbell?”

  “Non,” Taye cried innocently. “I am Minette Dubois, recently come from the Sorbonne in Paris.”

  “This is absurd,” Captain Grey muttered, rubbing his sweaty forehead.

  “I don’t know what she’s babblin’ ’bout in them Frenchy words, Capt’n,” Efia cried, waving a hand. “I swear I don’t. All I knows is that’s her.”

  Efia stepped toward Taye, who drew back as if frightened by the madwoman.

  Efia shook her finger. “She’s the one that kilt Grant Campbell in cold blood! I saw it all.”

  They were beginning to attract an audience. The baker walked out of his shop, his hands covered in flour. Two ladies carrying parasols picked their way across the muddy street to see what was happening. A young boy hung his head out the window of the storefront and called down to his mother to come quick and see. A group of black men who had been standing on the corner began to migrate toward the commotion.

  Captain Grey eyed the pressing crowd and assessed the situation quickly. “All right. All right.” He raised both hands, stepping between the two women. “Miss, I’m sorry,” he said addressing Taye. “I must ask that you accompany me to the jailhouse. Just until we can get things straightened out here.”

  “She is under arrest?” Mr. Gallier asked, feigning shock. “Why, this is preposterous!”

  “Miss—” Grey held out his hand, indicating the direction of the jailhouse. “Please.”

  Taye gave Gallier a fleeting look and then released his arm. Her heart was pounding inside her chest so loudly that she feared the captain might hear it. But all she could think of was Falcon and the fact that he thought she was as brave as a Cherokee woman. To him, it was the highest compliment he could pay. And now he waited somewhere beyond the town, in hiding, until she could be released and they could be together.

  “Oncle?” Taye murmured pathetically. She opened her eyes wide, trying to look like a little rabbit frightened out of his hollow.

  “Tout va bien. It’s all right, dear,” Gallier insisted, his mustache twitching. “I will have my lawyer come to the jailhouse immediately. Surely he will be able to straighten this matter out.”

  Grey allowed Taye to pass him. “Your lawyer, sir?” he asked guardedly. “You have come to town with your lawyer?”

  “Certainly not!” Gallier drew himself up to his full height, most indignant. “I am here in Jackson because this is where my lawyer conducts his business. Mr. Thomas Burl is doing some work for me. He is an expert in the laws of international shipping.”

  Grey looked to Taye, perplexed. And perhaps still skeptical.

  It was rather convenient that Mr. Gallier, from Baton Rouge, would have a lawyer in Jackson. Cameron and Jackson had argued over whether or not they should use Thomas as Minette’s lawyer, when he was supposed to be engaged to Taye. They knew it might look suspicious. In the end, Jackson won, saying the benefit of having Thomas stand in court and say this was not his fiancé outweighed the risk of suspicion.

  Taye forced herself to breathe slowly as she picked her way delicately across the muddy street at Captain Grey’s side, ignoring Efia who followed them, continuing her accusations loudly so that anyone who might listen could hear her.

  The men and the women on the street stared. Some knew Taye and were obviously confused. She could see it in their faces, hear it in their whispers. She kept her gaze down, pretending to know no one.

  Please let this work, she prayed silently. Please, God.

  “Cabot!”

  “Sir?” The private hurried to catch up.

  “I want you and Tattersaw to go out to Atkins’ Way. Bring Captain Jackson here. Surely he can identify this woman, tell us whether or not she is his sister-in-law.”

  Cameron was lying on her bed on her stomach, reading to Lacy, when she heard one of the many new housemaids let Private Cabot in downstairs. Knowing for certain why he was here, though she could not hear the discussion below stair, Cameron rose to prepare to go to town.

  “Finish your letters on the paper, Lacy. No ink smudges, mind you.”

  “But where are you going?” her charge asked. A quick study, Lacy’s grammar was becoming quite good when she wanted it to be.

  “I have to go to town.” Cameron grabbed her straw bonnet fashioned like a man’s boating hat and stood before the mirror to adjust it.

  Lacy wrinkled her pretty, freckled nose. In the weeks since she had joined the household, she had put on a little weight and her cheeks had filled out. Thanks to a proper diet, tutoring and decent clothing, the young lady deep inside Lacy was beginning to emerge. With every passing day, Cameron became more convinced, despite lack of evidence, that Lacy was, indeed, her niece.

  “I don’t like Jackson much,” Lacy said matter-of-factly.

  Cameron eyed her in the reflection in the mirror. “Pity.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he is my husband—” she skipped a beat “—and I still love him,” she confessed. “And I hope that he will be the father of my children.”

  Lacy cut her eyes to Cameron. “You got a hot bun in the oven again, Aunt Cammy?”

  “Lacy Campbell, you will not speak that way!” Cameron turned from the mirror, appearing quite stern. “You should have said, Aunty Cammy, have you a hot bun in the oven?”

  Lacy threw herself down on the bed and laughed out loud, kicking her feet in a most unladylike manner. “You are so funny, Aunt Cammy. I love it when you tell me funnies.”

  Cameron smiled and leaned to kiss the back of her sweet-smelling head where her hair had been neatly plaited by Naomi that morning.

  “Mrs. Logan?” Cameron heard Jackson call from downstairs. “Mrs. Logan, could you come at once?”

  “I have to go,” Cameron said, giving a little wave. “When you’re done, you may play with Ngosi.”

  “Goody!” Lacy flung herself down again and reached for the book on the alphabet.

  Cameron stepped out into the hall. “Yes, Captain?” she called, walking to the head of the stairs, playing the part of the good captain’s wife for the benefit of the audience she knew was below. “Whatever is it?”

  Jackson stood at the front door with a young army private who appeared barely old enough to be out of the nursery. “Sorry to disturb you, dear,” Jackson called up, “but this young man says your sister may have been located.”

  Cameron grasped the rail and hurried down the steps. “Is she all right? Oh, thank heaven. I was afraid that frightf
ul redskin had harmed her.”

  “Captain Grey has asked that I come to the jailhouse and identify her, and I knew you would want to come along. There seems to be some confusion,” Jackson explained for the benefit of their audience.

  “Of course I’ll come. I was going out to Elmwood,” she explained, patting the bonnet already on her head. “But I will certainly accompany you, sir.”

  Jackson turned to the blue-uniformed soldier. “Mrs. Logan and I will be there directly, Private.”

  “Yes, sir.” He backed out the door, closing it behind him.

  Jackson offered Cameron his arm, grinning boyishly.

  “Nice role-playing, Mrs. Logan. I’ve always thought you had an inclination toward the dramatic arts.”

  She took his arm, smiling slyly. “Not so bad yourself, Captain Logan.”

  33

  “Captain Grey,” Cameron cried, rushing into the jailhouse ahead of Jackson. “Thank goodness you’ve found my sister.” She lowered her beige lace parasol, fluttering a sandalwood fan. The late summer heat was oppressive in the small front room of the government building. “I feared the worst when my husband suspected Taye had been abducted by the redskin!”

  Captain Grey came out of the chair behind the front desk. “Mrs. Logan.” He nodded. “Captain Logan.” His gaze darted to Cameron again. “I apologize. I didn’t mean for you to bring Mrs. Logan into town in the heat of the day.”

  “The captain knew I just had to see my sister.” She peered around the captain in the direction of the jail cells. “Could I see her, please?”

  Looking nervous and unsure of himself, the army captain led Cameron through a doorway that could be closed off with a wooden door, as well as an iron gate. The same young private who had come to Atkins’ Way stood guard at the entrance to the jail cells.

  “Heavens,” Cameron murmured, fluttering her fan. “My poor sister. I cannot imagine what she has been through.”

  Captain Grey stepped back, allowing Cameron to pass him down an aisle lined with four small cubicles, each barred with iron.

  “Taye?” Cameron cried, rushing down the aisle paved in brick. “Taye, my dearest sister.”

  She halted in front of the only occupied jail cell. The barred door had been left open. Taye sat in a wooden chair that had obviously been brought for her from out front. The moment Cameron saw Taye, her stomach lurched, but she bit down on her lower lip and widened her eyes in surprise. “Oh, heavens. Oh…my. Who are you?”

  Taye rose, looking back at Cameron with equal surprise.

  “Captain, I thought you said you had found my sister?” Cameron cried.

  Captain Grey approached the jail cell. “This is not your sister?”

  Cameron looked at Taye again. “Well, I must say there is a slight resemblance, but—” She looked to the captain, lowering her voice and her lashes demurely. “You do realize my sister is half negra?”

  Captain Grey waited.

  Cameron lowered her voice even further. “This attractive young lady is obviously not of African heritage, sir.”

  He looked at Taye. “This is not your half sister, Cameron Campbell Logan?”

  “Non.” Taye fitted her small hands together. “I have never seen this woman in my life, sir.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Captain Grey muttered under his breath. “Captain Logan.” He pointed to the cell impatiently. “This is not your sister-in-law, Taye Campbell?”

  Jackson stuck his head around the corner of the jail cell, glanced at Taye, then turned to the captain. “Pretty chit, but not Taye.”

  “May I go, then, sir?” Taye asked timidly.

  Captain Grey took one look at Taye and stomped out of the jail cell room and back into the front of the jailhouse, followed by Jackson and Cameron.

  As Cameron turned away from Taye, their gazes met for just an instant. Cameron didn’t dare speak for fear one of the men might hear them, but she saw the love and concern in Taye’s eyes.

  “So you have not found my sister?” Cameron demanded at the front desk.

  Captain Grey slid into his seat, mopping his wet brow with his hand. “Frankly, Mrs. Logan, I don’t know who this is.” He looked up at Cameron. “The woman, Efia, says that is Taye Campbell.” He pointed in the direction of the jail cell.

  “And you would believe a woman from J Town over me? Why, Captain Grey, do you not know who I am? Who my father was?”

  “I’m sorry,” Grey said, directing his comments to Jackson. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. I apologize for bringing you all the way here.”

  “That’s quite all right, Captain. I understand you’re doing what is required of you.” Jackson replaced his hat. “You will continue to look for my sister-in-law. We fear the worst with Mr. Cortés missing as well.” He eyed him, man to man. “You understand?”

  “Perfectly.” Grey nodded. “Thank you again.” He was now obviously anxious to get rid of them. “If I hear anything, Captain, I’ll let you know.”

  With perfect timing, Thomas walked in the jailhouse door with Mr. Gallier just as Jackson and Cameron were going out.

  “Oh, Thomas,” Cameron exclaimed, pulling a handkerchief from inside her sleeve. “There is no need for you to come in. It’s not our Taye.”

  “Of course it is not this Taye,” Gallier blustered. “That is my niece being held unrightfully.”

  Thomas leaned to kiss Cameron’s cheek, and she could not help noticing how thin and frail he now appeared, how pale his skin was. Just seeing him nearly brought tears to her eyes. She blinked and looked to Jackson, thrusting her hand at him. “Suddenly I’m not feeling well, Captain.”

  “I’m sorry,” Thomas apologized, stepping back to let Jackson take Cameron’s arm and lead her outside. “Please feel free to take her down the street to my offices. My assistant can get you something cool to drink. Perhaps Mrs. Logan just needs to sit down.”

  Cameron allowed Jackson to lead her out of the jailhouse and down the street. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Jackson teased in her ear. “You’re going to drive poor Captain Grey to drink.”

  “I don’t care,” Cameron whispered. “So long as he sets Taye free first.”

  “Miss Dubois,” Taye heard Thomas call as he entered the rear of the jailhouse.

  She rose from her chair to greet Thomas and bobbed a slight curtsy.

  “My lawyer,” Mr. Gallier said, introducing him to Taye. “Mr. Thomas Burl. And he assures me, dear heart, that he can straighten this matter out within hours.”

  “Oh, I do hope so, oncle,” Taye murmured for the benefit of Captain Grey and the private standing inside the cell room.

  Thomas turned to the captain. “I should like to see my client alone,” he said sternly.

  Grey looked as if he were going to protest, then threw up a hand. “Certainly, Mr. Burl. Take all the time you like. Judge Mortimer isn’t in town, but I understand he will return within the week.”

  “Then you will be holding my client until then?”

  “She—Miss Campbell,” he corrected himself, “has been charged with murder. I don’t know who is going to sort this mess out, but frankly it’s not up to me, sir.” He stepped into the front office behind the soldier and closed the solid door soundly.

  It wasn’t until Taye heard the door close that she breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, Thomas,” she whispered. She crossed the couple of feet between them and threw her arms around him. He turned his face away and she stepped back, afraid she might cry. “You have every right to be angry with me, to hate me,” she whispered. “But please, let me—”

  “Mr. Gallier, this is awkward,” Thomas said stiffly. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”

  “Of course.” He tipped his hat, backing out of the cell. “I will wait by the door to be certain no one comes through or is listening.”

  Taye waited until Gallier disappeared around the corner before speaking softly. “Thomas—”

  “We do not have long,” Thomas interrupted.

&nb
sp; “But I have to tell you—”

  He grabbed both her hands, meeting her gaze with his warm brown eyes. “Taye, I release you.”

  “What?” She searched his familiar face for meaning.

  “I release you from our engagement to be married. When this is over, you understand you must go far from here, don’t you?”

  She pressed her lips together, fighting tears, and nodded.

  “You must go far from here to a place where you’ll be safe. Change your name and pass as a Frenchwoman or a Creole. Become someone else. Mr. Gallier has even made the kind offer to allow you to use his dead niece’s name. I want you to find a place where life will be easier for you. I fear it will be too long before the South is prepared to accept you.” He glanced down and then up at her again. “You should go with him.”

  Taye knew, of course, who he meant. Falcon. She felt her chest constrict with a mixture of pride and pain. Thomas did love her, just not in the way she needed to be loved. “Oh, Thomas, dear Thomas, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “We cannot control who we fall in love with.” He offered a brave smile. “Besides, you and I were not suited for marriage, and we both realized that a while ago, didn’t we?”

  Taye wanted to argue, but couldn’t; he was right. The truth just hurt.

  “Now,” Thomas said, moving on. “You know the plan. I had not anticipated the judge being out of town. I’m sorry, but you may have to spend the night here. I don’t think Captain Grey believes Efia, but he’s smart enough to realize what a coincidence we have here. He’s not making any decision that will exile him to some wilderness fort in the western territories, fighting Indians.”

  “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “I’m just thankful you thought of this.”

  “Me?” Thomas gave a laugh. “I could never come up with such a scheme. Only Jackson could fabricate such a ruse.”

  “So you think it will work?”

  “I do, particularly when Mr. Gallier comes up with his documents and the painting of his niece, Minette, in his pocket watch.”